That is Just Not Fair
by The-Impossible-and-The-11th
Summary: It has been two years since the 11th Doctor regenerated into a new face, and Clara has stuck around ever since. Time went by, and fights arose between the two former best friends. In the midst of their banter, the Doctor was struck and was again regenerating. Clara, now regretting, witnesses this overly familiar process again, but the impossible happens and a "new" face emerges.
1. Chapter 1: Clara

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who and its' wonderful characters**

**EDIT: Goodness gracious... I really need to spend time editing things... Anyway, hope you enjoy. And also be warned. There will be some possible smut later on. JUST WARNING YOU.**

**Chapter 1: CLARA**

With the console broken, _again, _the TARDIS was heading for a familiar location in a rather terminal speed: Clara's home. Sexy, as the Doctor would call the ship, had just been hit by the canon ball fired from a supercharged canon from Ferdinand Magellan's ship. Those stinking Sontorans were on it again… But why 1500th century Spain of all times?

Speaking of the impossible girl, Clara had just witnessed her beloved chinny Doctor regenerate into this dangerous old man who always took gambles. Much like the regeneration before him, he wore a purple over coat, a black vest, button-up shirt, slacks, and pointy shoes. The only thing that was missing was his ridiculous bow-tie. No matter how many remarks she had made about that bow-tie, she had loved seeing it on him, and she'd always straighten it for him before they both ventured out of the TARDIS. But enough of the past… He's gone and shall never return, for this old man has replaced him.

"Gods of Tenzalore, don't make them fail on me now!" the old man exclaimed as he clutched onto his sides where his kidneys where located. "I knew these kidneys were bad news ever since I got them! It's all in the colors, I tell ya!"

"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed while pointing at the open TARDIS door. "My flat! Below! Crashing! Again!" The pair seemed to have made a habit of possibly crashing into someone's house right after their every adventure, and just to her luck, today's course was yours truly. "Blimey, Doctor, why is that we're crashing every time I'm with you? This never happened with you before!"

"Well, excuse me!" The Doctor finally released his hands off his waist and grasped one of the levers that stabilize the TARDIS' artificial gravity, which was followed by another lever which abruptly stopped their momentum towards Clara's house. Both of them violently collapse on their knees. "You're supposed to be the impossible one, isn't that right?" He shouted as he struggled to stand up. "Why aren't you doing your job?!"

"You're supposed to be the Doctor. _The _Doctor. Not an old man who would crash into a Spanish ship just for the 'L.O.L.'!" She dusted herself off as she hoisted herself up with the help of the handrail, which was extremely hot. She winced and glared at the old man. "You're not supposed to be like this! You're supposed to be the one that ends conflicts! Not the one who starts them!"

"If you know so much about me and how much trouble I cause," started the Doctor as he stood up. "Then for God's sake, why don't you try saving me from myself, huh?!"

"I did!" She shouted without a pause. "I did! All your lives, that's all I've done! I went into your time-stream just to save you, and you… And you never once looked at me with gratitude!" With her fist curled up by her sides, she can feel the tears roll down her face. She was boiling. Boiling with anger, desperation, and sorrow because she, at this moment, finally accepted that the Doctor she loved is gone. "Only _he _did! He was the doctor!"

The old man was taken aback, as if hurt by her comments. He's never shown that face, or, at least, not with this face. He looked towards the ground as if trying to find the words to say.

Clara herself was surprised at her hostility. She's never once raised her voice at any version of the Doctor. Not in this way. But this was bound to come. She sighed.

"Look… Doctor… I didn't-"

A stomp came from the direction of the old man. "Always with the _he, he, he!_" The Doctor howled. "I'm the Doctor, Clara Oscar! I am in the right, and my decisions are always justified! If you don't agree with me, then the door is only a few feet away!"

The girl gasped. Sparks flew everywhere, but not just from the TARDIS. Her mind was confused and bewildered. Was the Doctor really throwing her out? Was she that out of line that he'd abandon her?

"_He couldn't even remember my name properly" _she thought.

Silence filled the room. Electric sparks continued to fly as the steam from the lower deck of the console rose. The tension between the two individuals seemed to affecting the TARDIS' ability to self-repair. With one final exasperated sigh, the Impossible Girl made the decision the she thought herself was impossible. She rummaged through the pockets that _her_ Doctor gave her and found the TARDIS key. She took a long look and remembered all the thrilling experiences that she had with it. As one final tear rolled down her cheek, she walked towards the angry old man before her and handed him the key.

"Well then. She's all yours again." She managed a half-hearted smirk despite her overwhelming emotions. "It's been an experience, _old man." _ She purposely decided not to call him "Doctor" because he did not deserve it. "Have fun."

She was finally free of this man. Finally free of his egotistical remarks, his immature behavior, his irresponsible actions, and his infuriating habits. But as soon as she turned away from this man that she once admired, she began to question if he was really as bad as she thought, or was it because he wasn't the man that he used to be? Was she really just angry at the man that left her? Was she being unfair to this man who has tried his best to make things interesting?

As she was finally reaching out to the door of the TARDIS, her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shout from the old man.

"Clara!" the Doctor shouted with a desperate expression on his face. Ah that face, ever so familiar. He used to wear that face as he sprints towards her whenever there was danger incoming.

"_Wait, what?" _She thought. The old man was now in front of her spreading his hands in the air, as if shielding her from something. Then it hit her. With a painful scream and jolt, she understood what had just transpired.

"Doctor…?" She gazed at his face. Previously filled with anger, the Doctor wore a fatally painful expression.

He grunted as he struggled to speak. "… Are you alright… Clara?"

Suddenly, a weak voice started behind the Doctor.

"Sontoran Stronx reporting. The Doctor has failed to calculate our concealment method. Assassination complete. The Doctor has fallen. Glory…" Before he finished his sentence, the Sontoran seemed to have fallen down from a staircase. Judging by his silence, he's probably dead. But she wildly wondered where he could have possibly come from.

"Ah, those damn potatoes…" The Doctor smirked as he latched on to Clara's shoulders. "Whether it be from changing the atmosphere or barging in my TARDIS via cannonball, they always seem to have a way on getting my attention."

"Doctor!" she caught him before his knee hit the ground.

"And of all the spots to hit… The kidneys… Really?" The Doctor stood up straight, laughing as if nothing happened.

Clara looked at him with widened eyes. Is he fine now? No… He's not. He can't be.

The man before him emitted a gold aura. She's seen this scene one too many times to be ignorant of what is about to happen. "No. No. No… Not again. Not you, too!" Tears again rolled down her cheeks like waterfall.

It wasn't long until she started regretting what had just transpired between the two of them just a few moments ago.

"_Why did I have to say all of that?!" _she violently thought. _"He's the Doctor just like any other Doctor there was, and there I am, rejecting him!" _She covered her eyes out of shame and regret. She didn't deserve to be saved by this man who had just received all of her resentment. Just because he wasn't the man she wanted him to be. And now, there he goes.

"Clara Oswin Oswald…" The Doctor gently grabbed her wrists away from her eyes and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb right under her eye. "This is not your fault. Quite frankly, I think it's mine. And you're right… I don't deserve to be called the Doctor… Not after everything I've put you through."

"No…" Clara gasped. "No! I was the one being unfair… I was looking for a man long gone… The Doctor before you emerged from his regeneration. And all I did was push my expectations onto you, and now…" She cupped the hand on her face with both hands. "I'm so sorry… I'm really, really sorry… Doctor…"

He smiled and she knew that smile too well. That's the smile of goodbye. He slipped his hand away from her face.

"No! Please don't change! Please! I swear I'll accept you for the way you are! Please!" She begged, almost on her knees.

"Clara…" The regenerating old man started. "I know that this process is a gamble, and you know that fully well." He winced as he turned away and took his final breath. "So you better put all your chips in, Impossible Girl. This next bet is my last."

He screamed as he raised both of his hand violently towards the TARDIS ceiling. Golden light emitted from his face and sleeves as the roof was blown off.

Clara swore to herself that she will be better this time. She will treat this Doctor with utmost respect and open mindedness. She will not repeat the same mistake ever again.

The regeneration process ceased and the Doctor bellowed in pain.

"Ah!" His white hair was replaced with dark brown hair, but nothing much seemed to have changed from his height and stature. He touched his chin. "Oh my. The chin is rather big again this time, eh? Still got legs. That's good. Oh! Fingers! Those are always good!" He snapped with them and grabbed a strand of his hair. "Okay, that's not fair. Still not ginger."

That voice… That playful mannerism… That's impossible. The new Doctor spun on his heel playfully and revealed his face. Big chin, almost non-existent eye brows, bangs on falling over to his right side… It can't be.

"Oh that's just not fair… That's just not fair, Doctor." Clara slowly shook her head as he approached the "new" Doctor…

"What? What is it, Clara…?" The Doctor raised his right eyebrow as he heard his own voice. He seemed to have realized what had just happened. "But… That's impossible…" He caressed his throat area in disbelief. "Clara, find me a mirror. Now!"

"Uh!" The girl who was just on her knees jolted up and tried to find something reflective. She kept muttering "no" under her breath, which is understandable. She had just witnessed something unbelievable. Finally, she stumbled upon a broken piece of the console and handed it to the Doctor with a smile on her face.

"No way… " he said as he looked at himself and rubbing his chin. "But that's impossible… I've had vanity issues before, but this… "

"Doctor." Clara said softly, as if trying to hold back tears. "Welcome back." She flung herself towards the Doctor. _Her _Doctor. The impossible had just happened and the Doctor she first met had just returned to her.

For once, that daft old man won something out of his gamble.

* * *

**Author's note: 'Ello everyone! It's me!**

**On other news. I'm writing again, fortunately. Hopefully you all will enjoy this coming up story that I'm about to continue. As far as I know we were all pretty sad that Matt Smith left his role as the Doctor, but this is fan fiction. Anything can happen. So I'm just playing at the idea in which he regenerates back to his 11th self and see how it goes.**

**And also, I am a recent whouffle shipper, so bear with me. **


	2. Chapter 2: Doctor

**Chapter 2: DOCTOR**

He knew that he was in the presence of impossibility, but this was just absurd. Pinching his cheeks wouldn't do it justice for him to wake up from this dream. His face was back. The face in which he had grown to adore Clara Oswald is back, and newer than ever. She was indeed his impossible girl, and his alone…

Though there is one thing that is bothering him.

"Clara… What did you do?" he asked the girl, who was still clinging onto his neck with glee, softly. He couldn't help but embrace her back, and he wished that he could stay like that forever. She never gave "Mr. Grumpy Number Two" this kind of affection. Her deep brown eyes were still filled with tears, and her dimples clearly showed how overjoyed she was.

She missed him, and he missed her. Well, actually, in reality he hadn't really gone away. In a sense, he was merely sleeping under his new self, potentially never to be woken up again. It's not like that, but if it helps, picture it as so.

"I…" Clara finally started. She sniffed a couple of times, hitting his neck with heavy breaths of happiness. "I don't know… Really. Perhaps it was one of those things that you'd call miracles…" She loosened her embrace and took a look at him with a huge smile on her face. Her gaze was enchanting, as if urging him to hug her even tighter. If Riversong ever saw this, she'll throw a fit… And that's not even enough to describe what she'll do.

Perhaps it was her tears that induced a very telepathic effect on the regeneration cycle. Maybe that's what triggered this face and personality to emerge once more. But in the end, does it really matter how or why it happened? She's saved him so many times, so achieving this much wasn't any more surprising than her other accomplishments.

"Well… I guess the universe does bargain, eh?" He replied softly and let her down. He, then, took a long look around to see what state the TARDIS is in. He saw the cursed… Or well, he didn't know what whether to curse or thank the broken canon ball pod that caused him to regenerate, but there it was rolling about with a dead Sontoran beside it. The console was no longer recognizable, with all the levers besides the one he had pulled detached. He was in luck that those were still intact, or else they would be kaput. "Sexy, look at you… You're all messed up. Do you want me to leave you, or do you want me to help you repair yourself?"

The TARDIS replied with a green glow, in which he translated as "Get the hell out of here!" He grabbed Clara's hand and bolted for the door.

"Doctor, she replied with green!"

"Humans standards! You're the only ones that take green as a positive thing!" After exclaiming that thought, massive amounts of steam blew them out of the wooden doors, which then closed violently. The deep blue hue of the box had faded into a shade of purple due to lack of repairs by Mr. G-2. "I'm sorry, old girl… _He _really let you go, didn't he?" He tapped the wooden wall, and with that, the TARDIS disappeared.

"Uh… Doctor?" Clara started. "Where did the TARDIS go?"

"She's still here, on Earth, don't worry. She just wants some time alone to get herself pretty. You know. Women."

"Oi!" she punched him on the shoulder the smiled. "I really have missed you…"

The Doctor let out a small laugh while spreading his arms. "C'mere you, my Impossible Girl…" They embraced once more and let out sighs of happiness.

"Doctor, wanna come in for a bit?" She asked suddenly. "My apartment is just right there, if you remember."

"Of course I remember. I'd never forget an incident like that."

"What incident…?"

"I walked in there, naked, remember?" He gave her a full smirk, which was met with her cupped hand.

"Don't make me remember those things!" She laughed openly. He has not heard her laugh like this in ages. She let his mouth go and hooked her left elbow to his. "Now, eye's front and march."

He's missed this all: her eccentric and playful mannerisms, her vivid smile and laughter, her tight embraces, and her lovely voice. He can't believe that he once let this girl all go away from his sight. Though he did have a good reason at the time, he regretted every single moment of it.

However, no more… This time, the Doctor stays.

"Aye'aye, Governess," he said playfully as both of them headed for her apartment building.

**Author's note: Sorry for short chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3: Clara

**Note: Again, sorry for the short chapter. After this one, the chapters should be longer.**

**Chapter 3: CLARA**

She still couldn't believe it. Even though he was skipping along with her, hooking arms with her, laughing along with her, she still couldn't believe that _her _Doctor was back in her arms. Quite literally, too. It was like meeting a best friend that went out of contact for a while then suddenly crossing paths in a crosswalk. It was like a dream, and she was afraid that she would wake up from it.

They reached the bottom staircase of her flat, and suddenly, the Doctor picked her up, bridal style.

"Oi!" Clara gasped and immediately grabbed the back of his neck on reflex. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Carrying you!" He exclaimed with a smile from ear to ear. She clearly wasn't the only one pleased on the current state of events. Then suddenly he jolted up to his toes, in pain. "Okay…! Okay… Settling down. Not good. Still cooking…" He stumbled, but managed to twist himself to fall on his bum, having Clara secured tightly in his arms.

"Doctor!" the woman exclaimed as he pushed herself from his grip onto his lap. She cupped his massive chin and caressed it gently. "See Doctor… This is what you get for being emotional… You get hurt." She kissed his forehead… She can't remember the last time she did that to him.

"Ah to be fair, however, this was a good occasion, eh?"

"You've gone bonkers, Doctor," she said with a wry smile on her face.

"What's wrong with bonkers?" he retorted playfully.

She definitely missed this… These playful banters of theirs are much more preferable than what she had with… Well him. The previous him. Or is it the next him? That piqued her interest quite a bit.

"So, Doctor…" she said as she jumped off his lap and helped him up. She put his right elbow over her shoulder, but it didn't do much since he was almost a foot taller than her. "What number of Doctor does this make you?" She decided to take him to the stairs instead because she knew that she would not be able to take on his weight all the way.

"Huh… Oh interesting question…" he said whilst slightly spitting out golden specks of dust. "Can I think about it later? Thinking is literally making me tired right now…"

She giggled at the comment as they entered the elevator. "You lazy arse… This is the only time I'm letting you sleep on me. We have some catching up to do."

"What…?" He said lazily. "Sleep on you? Okay." He then suddenly dropped all his weight.

"Oi! Not literally!" She complained as she slowly lowered herself. She sighed, but not off exasperation, but of relief. He really is back… But that's just not fair to her after she'd just let this persona of his go. But then again, she could never truly let him go. She'd experience getting tricked by him twice in Trenzalore, seen a glimpse of how he'd look when he grew old, and seen him change into a different face, but never has she lost hope that he'd still be in there.

The thought made her feel guilty. She was overly expectant of the old man to be exactly like the Doctor she grew accustomed with. He tried his best, for sure. He'd taken her to the planet Bitrahpicalz, which despite having scenery that switches from every hour, was a pain in the lower posterior due its bipolar climate that also changes every hour. Their inhabitants looked like a penguin combined with a walrus and top hat. As ridiculous as it sounds, their manners reminded her off the old British movies that she used to watch as a child.

Then he revisited Victorian London to reintroduce himself to Madame Vastra, Jenny, and Strax with his new face. Madame Vastra did not take his new attitude of gambling very well, but she found it relieving that he was still alive. They then had to fend off Strax' fellow Sontarans that decided that it would be a good idea to start turning humans into mini-Sontarans. Apparently they had an odd craving for having little potatoes running around as their children, and at the end of the day, blamed humans for their "vulnerability."

The elevator dinged as they arrived on her floor, but Clara kept thinking about the old man. There were a lot of good things that happened, really… But to her it was never enough. It wasn't the same, and it was around four months after his regeneration that the arguments started. They were small things at first. For example, he'd ask whether she'd like to go to the Variusima, the largest intergalactic Casino every now and then or back to her flat. She'd say the latter every single time, and he always grunted. It just escalated from there to the point of no return.

But now, she wished that she'd gone with him. At least just once would have sufficed.

When she finally came about, she dragged the Doctor's asleep body on the ground. His peaceful face calmed her, but she thought that he was ridiculously heavy. She thought of getting a wheel barrel, but that would be too much effort. With a grunt, she continued to drag him until they reached the front door of her flat. She tried to settle him down gently, but he ended up slightly banging his head on the wooden frame.

"Sorry!" Clara silently exclaimed as she turned the key and opened the door. She attempted to lift him up from his shoulder, but he was still far too heavy. She decided to drag him on his bottom, which she sure was red by now. She managed to settle him on the sofa, and with a sigh, she sat next to him.

She rested her head on the Doctor, and usually at this time, he would reciprocate by leaning his head on hers. But he was asleep, currently trying to rest his regenerating body. She didn't mind. As long as it means that she was getting her Doctor back, she could wait a few days.

And she did. She waited. And waited. She waited two weeks. Then a month.

But the Doctor has yet to awaken.


	4. Chapter 4: Doctor

**Chapter 4: DOCTOR**

"_Raggedy man… wake up," _said an ever so familiar voice.

"Hold on, Pond… It's not morning yet…" The Doctor retorted.

"_Raggedy man…" _she repeated.

"Ooh, Pond… Not now… I'm busy… Studying…"

"_Raggedy man!" _ she screamed.

"Wah!" he exclaimed as he jumped off the sofa. "I'm up, Pond! I'm… up…" He looked around to the unfamiliar surroundings suddenly around him, and then he remembered what happened a few moments ago. Or was it a day ago? Anyway, it couldn't have been that long.

"Oh, what a daft old fool I am…" he whispered to himself as he got on his feet. Oddly enough, he seemed a lot weaker rather than strengthened. Maybe an odd side effect of regenerating back to this self, he thought. He went straight to the kitchen then the refrigerator and looked for fish fingers and custard for old times' sake. To his slight dismay, he only found eggs and milk.

Thunder claps just outside. It seems that it was already night time and that it has been raining outside. _"Quite a dreary scene for such an amazing day," _he thought to himself. He looked himself at the oven reflection and slapped himself back and forth just to make one final assurance that it is really him. _"At least that's one cool looking fellow to make the scene brighter." _He checked for his sonic screwdriver, but he'd forgotten it in the TARDIS, who was off making herself pretty.

After setting himself down at the sofa with a bowl of milkless cereal, which he got from the cupboard, he couldn't help but notice that Clara's not home. Of course he couldn't be sure that this was Clara's flat, but it's a plausible guess since the only things in the kitchen, other than a couple of cereal boxes and a bottle of wine, are eggs, bread, tea, flour, and milk. That girl never managed to make a proper soufflé, even with the help of the Time Vortex.

He turned on the Television, and nothing but static electricity came on. "Well, that's a bit rubbish, isn't it?" he asked out loud. He checked for his screwdriver out of habit, and grunted because it wasn't there. He could have given this Television a million channels if he'd only remembered it.

Speaking of forgetfulness, he remembered his previous self and how he was always forgetful. When he first came out of him, or rather came before him, he didn't remember how to operate the TARDIS, which he was always been able to. Of course, there was one time that he couldn't even remember who he was after regeneration, but this was the TARDIS. It was a part of him and his whole being. He also forgot Clara's last name, which he felt bad for. Even if it was another face, it was the same person; it was the same him. To not remember Clara – to not remember _his_ Impossible Girl – is one of the few things that he'd label as sacrilege. Another one would be burning up a bow-tie, which he was missing at the moment.

"Then again…" he started. "I suppose that I did have an excuse. I am eighteen hundred years old, for crying out loud…" He let out a quiet chuckle, and returned to the kitchen, bowl at hand. But in all seriousness, he cursed himself for forgetting the woman who saved his life numerous times. Of course there were others, but she was the one that has been around _all _of his lifetimes.

He even called her the _only _mystery worth solving.

Suddenly he heard a door squeak coming from the end of the hallway, followed by sounds of weak footsteps and a faint noise of running water.

"Ah, Clara! You've been home, eh?" He spun on his heel to face the woman before him, who was stark naked, dripping with water.

Silence filled the room. It was either he didn't know how to react or she didn't. Or both, but they stood there, staring at each other. The silence was ended when the Doctor dropped his empty bowl to the ground and broke it.

"Ah!" he screamed as he spun violently towards the sink and covered his eyes. "Clara! You're naked! Why are you naked!?" The naked woman didn't respond, but instead, he heard footsteps slowly coming behind him. The Doctor was still panicking, then he recalled the incident when he, himself, presented himself naked in front of her five hundred and two years ago. He grinned instinctively remembering that moment.

"Oh, I see what this is. This is revenge, isn't it? Well, Clara Oswald, that is not…!" He spun towards her enthusiastically, only having to see her crying face. "… going to work…" The Doctor gulped and hesitantly grabbed her on the shoulder. He moved his eyes rapidly, trying to assess what is going on based on her appearance, and he noticed a few changes on her features. There were clear signs of insomnia and possible ample amounts of crying based on the bags under her eyes, which were almost black. Her usually happy, optimistic eyes were filled with sadness – like she's lost something. "Clara, what's wrong?"

"… Doctor…?" she said with a hoarse voice as she slowly raised her hand gently caressed his chin. "… It's really you... You're alive…" She offered a tiny smile of relief.

"Of course I'm alive, Clara," he told her gently. He took her other hand that was on her waist and put it on the empty side of his face. "How can I not be alive, Clara? You've just seen me regenerate, one, two, three days ago." He then cupped her tear-filled cheeks, which was burning. "Oh, my Clara… You're burning up. Let's…" The Doctor stopped as he looked at her naked body once again. Now he was the one getting overheated. "… get you some clothes, eh?"

Clara started sobbing sporadically as she slipped out of his hands and landed on his chest. "It's really, really true… You're finally awake…" She removed her hands from his face and weakly thumped them against his shoulder.

The Doctor didn't understand. Just how long could he have slept? It couldn't have been for more than a week, could it? If he slept for any more than a month, he'd be a vegetable.

"Clara…" he started as he tried to avert his eyes. "Let's discuss this later, eh? It's already…" he looked at the clock. "Eleven o'clock. 'Ey! Eleven!" He laughed at that a bit and noticed that Clara giggled a bit, too. That was good news at least. "Anyway, let's get you some clothes…"

"Clothes… Probably a good idea…" she said weakly, then collapsed immediately right after. Fortunately, the Doctor caught her.

"Clara?" He shook her wet body. Boy, she was really burning up. "Oh! Why are you humans so weak?" he complained and carried her over to what seems to be her bedroom. He set her down on the bed, dried her up, and rummaged through her drawers. He managed to find a matching pair of jammies that consisted of a red button up shirt and some pants.

"Playing dress up with Clara… Never thought of that before." He put on her clothes, totally forgetting about her underwear and put her blankets on her. He then ran into the shower room and immediately filled a bowl with cold water that Clara left running. Finally, he got a rag, dipped it in, twisted it dry, and put it on Clara's burning forehead.

"At least you're not as feverish as you came out of my time-stream…" he told her sleeping body. "Artie and Angie's father had a party as he shot me down with insults of how I didn't care of my 'girlfriend…'"

This isn't the second time that he saw her with a fever. The second time was with Mr. Grumpy number two, and he merely told her to walk it off. He still felt guilty about him doing that to her… He remembered every single argument _he_ had with her, and boy, were they pointless. At least now, this version of him was there, back at her side, where he'd protect her with all of his might.

He found himself nodding off again, and this time, he promised himself that it wouldn't be as long as however long he slept before. Why? Because he was sleeping right next to Clara.

He found himself dreaming of the past; a very distant past long ago. He was dreaming of his last date with Riversong before she died in the biggest library in the universe.

"_Hey, Sweetie," _said his deceased wife. He expected himself to reply automatically, knowing that this was a dream, but he remained silent for some reason. _"Sweetie, this is really me talking to you," _she finished.

"_Wait… What?" _he replied, confused.

"_Sweetie, I haven't got much time, but I have one question." _She glared at him. _"Are you two timing, hm?"_

"_I, uh…" _Not knowing how to respond, he lunged in for her cheeks, giving her a small peck of apology. _"Not exactly…" _he started. _"She's not really my girlfriend… Not at the moment…"_

"_Not at the moment?!" _she gasped.

"_I mean, I…!" _Before the Doctor could finish what he was saying, River started to laugh.

"_I'm just messing with you, sweetie…" _ She gave a devilish grin. Oh how he missed that grin. _"I'm not the type of wife that will put a chain on you after death."_

"_Right… You're dead…" _he remembered. _"But… How are you talking to me...? I thought all of your echoes vanished?"_

"_I always remain where you are, Doctor. I never leave. Not really." _Her image was starting to fade away. _"Listen Doctor, there's something you need to know."_

"_Well? Tell me. I'd listen to a message from my dead wife any day." _He chuckled, but her face was as serious as ever.

"_Doctor, you need to go back to the TARDIS. There is something coming, and not even your 'Impossible Girl' will be able to stop it."_

"_If you're talking about the dead Sontaran that shot me, you're already too late." _He motioned his head from his head, down. _"Voila. New – er… Old face. Previous face. Look this is confusing."_

"_No, Doctor… It's something worse than that – something worse than an army of your worst enemies back at the Pandorica." _

The Doctor's eyes widened in terror. What could be that dangerous? What could be coming for him? _"River, tell me. What's going to happen?"_

Instead of telling him, she gave him her trademark smirk as she said, _"Spoilers." _She vanished right after, and the dream ended.

"River!" He screamed as his shot open. He immediately raised his head up, getting hit by the blinding sunlight coming from the window. He glanced over the bed and found Clara still sleeping. She was breathing normally, and somehow he feels that that's the most peaceful she's been ever since he regenerated to his current self.

"_What caused her to be so sad…?" _he wondered to himself as he stood up and renewed the wet rag on her forehead. _"At least the fever's gone." _He headed out the door, and then to the kitchen. Hoping that he won't burn anything up, he got the pan, some cooking oil, and some eggs out of the refrigerator to fry.

"Frying eggs," he started. "How hard can it be?"

Forty-five minutes after, with almost dozen of eggs lying on the kitchen floor, he got a tray two decent Sunnyside-up eggs with a side of untoasted toast and a cup of warm tea. "Cooking is rubbish," he said under his breath as he exited the kitchen.

With his foot, he managed to gently kick open the door and took a peek inside. He saw Clara standing by the window, looking at the bird in front of her with her hand crossed.

"Hey!" he said as he put the breakfast tray on the bed. "Look who's awake!" He hugged her from behind and kissed the back of her head, which then suddenly was met by her palm. He backed off, rubbing his lip to see if there was bleeding. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Six months."

"Six months of what?"

"Six months! I did my waiting, six months of it! And no signs of a groan, or moan, or snore, or nothing!" She rushed to him, grabbed his collar, pushed him down the bed, and jumped on him. Luckily, she avoided the breakfast he made for her. "Six months, Doctor!" she screamed at his face, tears dropping. "Do you know what that does to a person?! It drives them mad! Especially…!" She broke off and collapsed on his chest. "Especially when they didn't know… whether the person… A special person… was alive on their sofa…" She weakly shook him, and brought her head up to look at him. "Well… Do you, Doctor?"

Those huge, brown, adoring eyes, filled with tears… The Doctor couldn't take that. He immediately sat up, with her still on his chest, and embraced her. "Clara… Oh my, Clara..." He buried his face in her hair as he caressed it. "I'm so, so sorry… I didn't know that I'd sleep for that long… I didn't even know I was capable of it." He kissed the back of her neck, and brought his face in front of hers. "I promise to never sleep while you're awake… I swear. If I do, I give you permission to slap me silly." He smiled

Clara, with tears on her eyes, also managed a tiny smile. "… Don't be ridiculous, Doctor," she said with a sobbing voice and hugged him. "But I'll hold that promise of yours." They both laughed and embraced each other for a good five minutes without saying a word.

"I'm special, eh?" he started.

"Shut up," she laughed, still burying her head to his chest. She sniffled. "Hm… Doctor."

"What?" he replied.

"You need a shower."

"What?"

"You stink!" she said pushing herself off of his chest.

"I never stink? I smell like a baby!"

"Yeah? From what planet? The Slitheen's?"

The Doctor pouted. "Fine… I'll take a shower… As long as you promise to finish your breakfast."

Clara clasped her hands. "You made breakfast for me? Oh, how sweet!"

"Don't get used to it. One time use only," he said as both of them got off the bed.

"Don't be a cheapskate. Now get!" She pointed at the door with a huge smile on her face. He closed the door behind him and heard, "Oh lord… My hair's all over the place."

He couldn't help but laugh as he headed over the shower. It's been centuries since _he's _heard that forceful attitude of hers. He couldn't help but reminiscence about it as he scrubbed every corner of body, and he made to himself that he'll see this to the end. _"To hell with not liking endings… I've ran from them for way too long," _he thought.

After he finished his shower, he peered his head out of the shower room, forgetting a towel. He doesn't usually forget things like this, but his previous self still has its influences. "Clara! Have you got a towel or something? I'm naked!"

"Oh come out, Doctor!" she said behind the door. "I've seen you naked before, and you weren't embarrassed in the slightest!"

"But you were!"

"… Touché! Make sure you're in the room. No funny business!" A few moments later, Clara knocked. "Room service!"

"Ah, thank you." He dried himself, then wrapped his waist with it. He looked at himself in the mirror. "Blimey… This is a pretty big chin…" he told himself. He opened the door and headed for the kitchen, finding Clara sitting on the dining table with a bottle of wine in her hands. For a moment, the Doctor didn't know how to react. Then he immediately reached for the bottle right before Clara drank from it.

"Hey!" she complained.

"Wine in the morning? I don't think so." He set the bottle down on the kitchen counter.

"Who are you? My mother?" she aggressively asked.

"Yes. No. Maybe. I could maybe be your mother," he retorted.

"You…!" She stopped herself and sighed. "Sorry… It became sort of a habit after you became… Sleeping beauty over there." She looked at the couch.

"Again, sorry about that," he said as he sat down next to her, then embracing her. "Never gonna happen, again. I promise."

"You've been said that before… You tricked me."

"Have I, now?" He kissed her forehead. "Well this time, Sexy's still away. I'd sense her if she's nearby. Well, not accurately, but I'd feel her at least."

Clara looked confused. "Uh, Doctor… What's Sexy?"

"You know… My TARDIS. The one that you told me to take back all those years ago."

"… Oh right! I forgot that you called it that…"

"Oh, Clara, how can you forget something like that?"

"No… It's just… I don't know…" She blinked a couple of times. "What were we talking about again?" She looked at him with eyes that seem to have legitimately forgotten what they were previously talking about.

"The TARDIS, Clara."

"Oh, right…" She blinked again and cleared her throat. "Well, yeah. No signs of her for the past months." She got off the table and went towards her bedroom. She, then, walked towards him almost immediately and flicked him hard on the forehead.

"Ow!"

"That's for seeing me naked," she said as she smirked deviously.

His face reddened as he remembered the incident. "It's not my fault! You came in like a ghost!"

"Oi! I am not that pale," she said as she walked off towards her room. "No peeking this time, Doctor."

"Wait!" He went after her right before the door shut. " My clothes are still in there."

"No they're not. They're in the washer. It said 'dry-clean preferable,' but that'll do."

"You what?"

"Ciao!" she said as she closed the door near his face. With a grunt, he headed over to the living room and set himself down on the sofa. The static TV that he left running was still on.

"_Ah, pure entertainment…" _he thought, mocking the TV. Suddenly, he heard the keys being inserted through the front door.

"Clara!" shouted a man as he walked to the living room with grocery bags. "I've brought you medi-" The man looked at him with dumbfounded eyes, as if he's seen a ghost.

"Well isn't this familiar. Except you got clothes on," the Doctor said plainly as he stood up.

"What?!" the man exclaimed.

"… Sorry! Context. Gotta watch out for them. 'Ello! I'm the Doctor," he said as he imitated kisses from both sides of the man's cheek. "And you are?"

"Dave. Dave Oswald. Clara's father," the man said.

"Ah, oh yes! We've met before! Christmas… Two years ago, yes?"

"Why are you naked in front of me?"

"Well… Long story," He raised his index finger, trying to find the words to say. "But your daughter has my clothes in her bedroom."

"What!?" Dave bellowed as he dropped the bags on the floor.

"Uh… I mean that washer!" He hit his face with his palm and raised his hands. "It's not what it sounded like. Not even close. Now listen, Dave-"

"You little, son of a-!" he howled as he raised his fist.

"Dad! Uh…! Good morning!" Clara said as she squeezed herself in between him and her father.

"Clara, what's he doing here?!" he shouted

"Uh, dad. You've seen him on the couch. He's comatose boy, remember?" she questioned.

"Comatose boy?" the Doctor complained. "What kind of name is that?"

"Hush!" She elbowed him, which wasn't very nice. "Remember, dad?"

Dave examined him over his daughter's head, and widened his eyes. "… You're awake."

"Yes I am," he said sheepishly. "No bruises, thank you very much."

"He took care of my fever last night, dad. He didn't do anything. He just showered is all," she said, trying to appease her father's anger, which seemed to be working. A few moments later, they all sat on the couch silently.

"So… Let's start this over…" the Doctor said, breaking the silence. "Hello, Dave. I'm the Doctor. You're daughter has been taking care of me for the past… Six months? Yeah. Sorry about the ruckus." Clara's father only gave him a glare as a response. "Okay, silent greeting works, too."

"So, dad," Clara said. "What brought you here?"

"I was bringing you medicine," he replied as he picked up the bags off the floor. "You haven't been feeling well. You sure you're alright now?"

"Yes, I'm fine dad. Just a bit of a summer fever is all," she said with a smile on her face, and that seemed to be enough for her father to smile.

"Well, just phone me if you need me," he said while standing up. He then glared at the Doctor, which, oddly enough, caused him to feel some kind shiver in his spine. Not much people can do that. "Take care of yourself, mate." He headed towards the front door as Clara followed him closely. Then suddenly he shouted. "What do you mean 'except I got my clothes on'?!"

"Bye dad," Clara said as she shut the door. "Really, Doctor?! You told him that you saw me naked?"

"It was an accident!"

She grunted. "I'll have to explain that later, you know?" She headed for the kitchen and fetched a couple of cups of tea she seemed to have made without him and her father noticing.

He noticed how she was dressed up. She had her normal amount of make up on and her high ponytail, but she was wearing a black leather jacket, shirt, skirt, and leggings. "… Clara, are you a part of a gang now, or something?"

"What?" she looked at herself. "Oh, no! Just… Recently started dark colors is all. Why? Do you not like it?"

"… It's lovely," he managed. "It's a different kind of lovely, but it's lovely."

"… You don't, do you?" she pouted.

"No, that's not it at all! I love it!" he exclaimed.

"Really?"

"Really," he replied. "Now those clothes better be done by now."

"No need." She rushed to her bedroom and grabbed a folded sets of clothes. "Got you a brand new set of clothes. Overcoat, slacks, shoes, shirt…" She raised an eyebrow. "Bow tie."

"… You know you could have given me this before your father showed up." She gave him a devious smirk. "You knew, didn't you! That he was coming!"

"You think I'd let you off with a flick on your forehead? On your dreams, boy," she laughed.

"You little Dalek!" he shouted playfully as he ran to her and picked her up, trying to find her ticklish spots at the same time. He was successful.

"Doctor!" she cried out while laughing. "I'm warning you!"

They continued messing about for another ten minutes. Man, has he missed this. When he was Mr. G-2, the most fun he'd offer her was a joke about a purple giraffe dancing about in the planet Barcelona.

He got dressed in his new outfit, and Clara picked it out well. Two different purple tones with his button up shirt and his bow-tie were definitely cool. Everything went well together, but now he wondered where they why he was dressed up this nicely. Not that he was against it. In fact he was dressed up like this, but Clara picked it for him, which only means that they're going somewhere.

"Clara!" he called out. He suddenly heard sounds of something rolling coming towards the living room. "Clara…?" Right next to her where two huge black traveling bags that can fit almost her whole wardrobe.

"Uh, Clara, if you don't mind me asking…" The Doctor started. "But where exactly are we going?"

"We, Doctor," she came forward and tugged on his bow-tie. "... are going to Vegas."


End file.
